Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1887-01-29

-~vvu, VIVA are va to do With hlmr W.
laGe demanded.
L. Pottevin, who was getting sleepy, de-
e1ared that the prisoner must be tired-poor
man. And, indeed, he did look wretched
Tying there in q heap, tied hand and foot
| Voltage wal overcome with maudlin pity for
| him, and, removing his gag, asked him how
he felt.
ave had enough Of this, God Knows be
groaned.
This melted sorieul. He took off the cords
assisted the old man to q chair, and busted
himself in making q new punch to comfort
him. The prisoner again relapsed into silence.
but he watched the movements of his cantor,
with increasing interest. When the punch
vas ready they gave him q glass; then thew
al drank.
The prisoner drank enough for a regiment,
When his health was proposed, he insisted
on drinking to each Of the others in turn, But
the liquor had no more effect on him than On
the punch bowl. Sorieul was now in the last
stages, and after toasting our guest" for the
third time, he subsidized into his chair and
slipped thence to the floor, where his heavv
breathing soon announced that he had M
further interest in the proceedings, Voltage
too, was too drowsy to keep awake, and "a
firing to a lounge, was soon sleeping soundlv
Le Pottevin seemed surprised and hurt at th;,
lack Of courtesy on tho part of his friends
and fell into a brown study, which, by gradual
but swift degrees, was transformed into com.
plete oblivion. The old man was left alone
The bright sunlight pouring in through tina
open window aroused Le Pottevin. His besd
was %throbbing like q steam engine. Volaya
stretched out On the lounge, was a sorrn
sight with his b~edraggled cuirassier,s uniforn
and bloodshot eyes. Sorieul, awake, too baa
not discarded his hussar's suit.
Pulling himself together, Voltage LOOKED
around for his clothes. Tho room was in .
terrible state, but he could find them No
where; nor were they in the studio, so he 10
turned to ask Sorieul where he had put them.
@Oh, bother your clothesl" said Sorieul; bu,
be sat up and began to gaze around the room.
II don't know where your clothes are. You
put them on that chair" Nevertheless he got
up and assisted Le Pottevin and Voltage in
their search. But the search was in vain; not
n Of them could find q vestige of thu
clothes he had worn the evening before.
swell, that's queer" unused Sorieul. "By
the way, what time did our friend the spy
leave youi"
Voltage and L. Pottevin looked blankly al
ono another.
"Why, I don't know" he said at last. "Hs
must have gone while we were asleep" And
he gazed ruefully at the clock on the mantel,
"Hallo! what's thisl" he cried, suddenly, and
he took from the top of the clock a sheet Of
paper on which was hurriedly scrawled the
following:
"GENTs OF THE ARMY: You are first rate
soldiers. The uniforms makes you look fine,
and you don't want never to wear nothing
else. So, in course, you don't want your plain
close, which is wore out some, anyhow. And
I guess I'll just keep the little trinkets in tho
pockets for suveneers. Yours gratefully,
"THE Spy"
When they recovered from their amaze
ment, they swore . solemn oath that if they
ever met that spy again the sentence of the
court martial would be carried out instanter.
But it never waS-Adapted for The Argo.
naut from the French of Guyd Maupassant.